


The Mirror of Hashirama

by NSQ



Category: Naruto
Genre: 5+1 Things, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:20:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25476013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NSQ/pseuds/NSQ
Summary: Five ways Shimura Danzo mistook the illusion of strength for reality.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	The Mirror of Hashirama

**1\. The Sands**

It was ridiculous for the Kage to bow. Each time the Lord of Fire met with Hiruzen, Danzo's frustrations grew. Who was this man, to subordinate the strongest shinobi on the continent? A weak and prattling fool, clothed in silks and fat. A genin, fresh from the academy, could kill this liege if not for the elite ninja Konoha wasted in protecting him. The strong should keep their pride. He thought idly of Suna, impoverished by a Daimyo that scorned them. If Danzo ruled the Hidden Sands, the Lord of Winds would not live out the month.

 _Half a continent away,_ the Lord of Winds knew well that those Hidden in the Sand might kill him. They crouched in their oasis, jealously guarding their independence. They rejected offers and overtures, and disgraced him when they condescended to accept, then blamed him for their misfortune. The wealthy men and women of his nation looked eastward more and more, seeking shinobi worthy of trust, who did not look upon them like excrement to be scraped off a sandle. He wished he could do the same. The resentment was only growing worse.

Every night, the Daimyo of the Land of Winds went to bed, not knowing if he would wake. His predecessor died suspiciously. He might well die similarly. He feared death, as all men did, but what was he to do? He avoided shinobi when possible, knowing even the youngest might believe his death would serve their cloistered desert village. When shinobi were necessary, he hired from the sands exclusively. The consequences of doing otherwise had been made clear to him. But he was just one man, however wealthy and powerful. He could not save Sunagakure from poverty on his own, not when all the lords and ladies sought out the shade of the tree instead of the harsh desert sun.

The Land of Winds did not trust its ninja, and not even a cowed Daimyo could save them from the drought that fear had brought.

**2\. The Stone**

To cease fighting when the enemy still stood was the height of foolishness, Danzo thought, as the ambassador from Cloud slung barbs at Hiruzen from over the negotiating table. The Third Hokage ignored the insults, aping senility. The Hyuuga incident shamed them all, and shamed them worse for Hiruzen's being too weak to retaliate. Once, Konoha had held the advantage, and failed to take the opportunity to remove a threat from play permanently. That Hiruzen and Namikaze hadn't led an army into the mountains betrayed their soft hearts. Had Danzo been given command, there would be no Hidden Stone or Cloud.

 _Had Kurotsuchi been given command_ , there might still be a Hidden Stone. She was granddaughter to the Tsuchikage, and had made jonin at a young age. In the normal course of things, she would be the fourth leader of her village when her grandfather retired.

Now, though, there was little point. Each year there were fewer Iwa shinobi. Her grandfather's bitter monologues had shown her how carved in stone the problems were. Iwa needed a certain number of shinobi to take missions and risk death in order for the village to feed and arm itself, which meant fewer ninja having children or training genin. A certain number of new genin had to filter through the ranks to replace the inevitable losses to death or desertion. Taking genin on more lucrative missions and reducing in-village training periods could alleviate the problem somewhat, but lead to more genin casualties. Desertion was even worse than death, because the deserter removed their hunters from the pool of available jonin for a time as well as themselves.

Iwa couldn't stop sending shinobi on missions, or else it would starve. It couldn't keep sending shinobi on missions or else it would be worn away to nothing. It couldn't hunt down deserters because jonin needed to be doing useful work, but it couldn't let them run free because then there'd be more of them. Most ninja villages operated on a razor's edge balancing these issues anyway. Hidden Stone had been shattered on it.

Her grandfather always ended his rants cursing the name of Namikaze Minato and weeping. It was painful to watch, but Kurotsuchi owed it to the man to be there, and owed it to him not to say that it had been his choice to commit the genin and chunin reserves in the final offensive of the last war. That the Yellow Flash had been capable of slaughtering so many was stunning, and terrifying, but... she'd looked at the records herself, the casualty reports of victorious battles. Many of those shinobi would have died regardless, enough to cripple the village even if they'd won. Hidden Stone was always going to break if it couldn't bend, Namikaze or no. If she was feeling poetic, she'd assign meaning to the man's name. After all, trees bent in the wind. Stone wore away.

The village had died ten years ago, Kurotsuchi knew. She would stay in its corpse as long as the old man was alive. She owed him that. But nothing after.

**3\. The Mist**

Shimura Danzo despised Hyuuga Hiashi. The man's selfish concern for clan over country was offensive to those patriots who'd given everything to Konoha. He'd come around once again with a petition for Hiruzen, as though he had the right to demand the Hokage's time. Uchiha Fugaku had once done the same. One of Danzo's many fantasies was telling Hiashi so and letting him sort through the implications. Hiruzen wouldn't allow it, of course. It had taken outright treason to move him against the Uchiha, and the man still seemed ashamed of the matter afterwards. Danzo couldn't understand it. Bringing the clans to heel would be needed to avoid the same from happening again - and fear could always be relied upon.

 _The clans were afraid of her_ , Terumi Mei thought. They hated Yagura, and hated the dead Third Mizukage even more, but they were afraid of her. And why shouldn't they be? They remembered well how the last story started by someone seeking to found a village in the Land of Water ended. They, the old centres of shinobi strength from the era of the warring clans, had come together to build a fortress and a sanctuary and found that it could just as easily be made a prison. They couldn't trust someone who spoke of rebuilding it, instead of tearing it down.

She could tell them Mist would be strong. It had been strong once. During the Second War people had wondered if Mist could have matched Konoha. Mist being strong wasn't the issue. They needed her to tell them it wouldn't use that strength against its own people. She didn't know if she could. Could she guarantee that no successor to her would try and remove all obstacles to their reign? Could she build a system that was incapable of it, yet able to last?

Mei buried herself in study. Ao complained it was useless to the rebellion, that she needed to train, to fight and kill until Yagura himself fell before her. He was too stuck in what Mist had become, however helpful his skills were. Chojuro, at least, listened when she explained why it was necessary. He wasn't the greatest fighter of the Seven, but she thought he might have the most potential for _good_. 

She tracked down records of Mist's founding, the negotiations and fault lines. She met with clan members, not just leaders, and not just to try and reach a deal. She needed to know these people she wanted to lead. She studied the writings of Senju Hashirama, his hopes for reconciliation and dreams of peace, and of his brother, who spoke only of blood and steel. There was no answer in the latter and, Mei suspected, less truth than Tobirama had believed. Steel swords and blood in the water had ruined Kirigakure already. She would have to trust in hopes and dreams.

**4\. The Clouds**

There was something obscene, Danzo thought, looking out from Hiruzen's office at the top of the Tower, about a village compromising its security for those who could not contribute to its defense. The mass of wagon and barge traffic through Konoha's gates was ripe for infiltration. The effort it took, from sensor shinobi and the barrier teams filtering out the most obvious would-be intruders, ANBU covering vulnerable targets such as the academy, and the knowledge that, ultimately, some foreign agents would still make it through grated on his nerves. Was security not the chief promise of the village? Their openness would be their downfall. He turns away from the window. Hiruzen has asked him a question.

 _The mark-ups on goods coming into Cloud_ , A knew, were obscene. Of course, so was Kumogakure's existence, hidden as it was by sheer altitude. Shinobi could make the climb reliably, along certain routes, but they didn't have enough spare shinobi to have all of their food delivered by chakra assistance. No D-ranks for Kumo genin. They needed to make money. Same went for weapons, which also couldn't be produced in the thin air of the mountaintops. Very few things could, so they had to be delivered, and paid exorbitant prices for. Mission revenue wasn't enough. The village only existed because of subsidies from the Daimyo of Lightning, A's cousin-in-law. A familial relationship whose maintenance was one of the Raikage's top priorities.

The benefit of Kumogakure's location was that it was nearly unassailable. An attacking force would be fighting uphill, in thin air, and moving along certain, picketed routes with planned defenses. The downside was any merchant, artisan or recruit had to deal with the same things. The benefits in screening were countered by the prices, but it had to be done - attempts at moving parts of the village down the mountains in the past lead to them being destroyed when war broke out. Shinobi moved too fast, and hit too hard, for vulnerable targets to be left undefended, and most targets couldn't be defended efficiently without certain terrain.

If they'd managed to acquire a Hyuuga branch, or barrier techniques, things would be different. A often fantasised about it - a Kumogakure where food was cheap and varied, clothes were beautiful, and space was plentiful. Where fresh crops of genin would come in with the seasons. They'd lasted this long by avoiding the disasters that had ruined other villages. No spats with their clients, no civil wars, no military over-extension. But Clouds were transient things, and disaster would come eventually.

A could only hope they'd found a way down from the mountains when it did.

**5\. The Roots**

This was Danzo's world, in the darkness beneath the trees. A foundation for Konoha, its hidden strength. No divided loyalties, no hesitation, no softness. Not in Danzo and not in what he's made. No weakness or frivolity.

(Nothing at all.)

He's inspecting the recruits.

(Stolen, because nobody would wish their children here the way they dream of being Konoha genin.)

One of them, a dark haired boy, is putting brush to paper. One of the more talented of this batch, Danzo remembers.

(His parents weren't ninja. They'd been in Konoha because it had a place for them, until the Kyuubi took its revenge and left their son to the mercy of that which wormed through the dirt.)

He glides over the boy's shoulder, and asks to see what he's doing. The boy obeys. Good. The flinching had been trained out of him.

(If Danzo died now, this boy wouldn't pick up the pieces. None of them would. They wouldn't know how, or know how to want to.)

It's a drawing. Useless. Danzo burns the book with a word and a flat gaze. The boy flinches. He will be punished for that, too.

(Up on the surface, another boy is practicing a far more useless technique. He doesn't know that one day it will save his life, and his village.)

All is as it should be, in Danzo's world.  
  
(The irony was always this: it could only exist because of what he despised.)

**\+ 1. The Leaf**

Really, Uchiha Madara considers, the only reason there isn't a town here already is because he'd probably have burned it down, and everyone knew it. The river access would make travel and trade much more convenient, and the mountain blunted the winds. The only issue...

"Hashirama, be serious," the murderer says, exasperation bleeding into his normal monotone. "This location is indefensible."

That. Though he's loathe to agree with Senju Tobirama about anything, building a village only to see it attacked within the first month is a poor idea.

"Peace, brother," the fool replies, and Madara isn't sure if it's meant to be an exhortation or an explanation. Hashirama justified lots of things with 'peace'. He continues. "I know my wife has spoken to you about a barrier network, and we've entered into discussions with the Hyuuga Clan."

Ah yes, the Hyuuga clan. The combination of desperate envy and arrogance at those negotiations had put Madara off his lunch for weeks. He understood they were needed, but the concessions had been ridiculous.

"Yes," the white-haired bastard frowned. "Mito has approached me with your frankly ridiculous concept of a seal-based perimeter detection system. It might be possible, but maintaining it would be as expensive as building it." He paused, before adding more waspishly. "And what sort of ridiculous things did you promise them to get them to agree to playing look-outs?"

Madara cuts in. "Nothing too bad," he lies, with a smirk he knows is aggravating. "And besides, I don't see any better ideas coming from you-"

Tobirama bristles even as Hashirama intervenes. "Peace, please," he says again, before turning to his brother. "We cannot build a better future just by making a bigger fortress, Tobi. The costs are..." He shrugs his massive shoulders. "They are what they are. It will be worth it in the end."

"How?" Tobirama asks. Very nearly spits, Madara thinks, feeling something like pity for the man and his bitterness. He's never been able to see Hashirama's dream. Not really, not the way Madara still sometimes can, even with Izuna's eyes burning in his skull. He only sees the world of warring clans, and for that, Madara pities him.

But Madara has some of that world, dead flesh in his skull, still in him too, and those eyes are why he smirks again and opens his mouth, something scathing on his tongue, only for Hashirama to sigh, cutting him off with a gentle flare of chakra. Flowers sprout around their feet.

"Look around," the God of Shinobi says. "Please."

The forest is quiet. Not menacing, like the forests were when they were at war, and any tree could hide an enemy. Branches sway gently overhead. The sun is cresting behind the mountain.

Even a cold bastard like Tobirama would have to admit it's beautiful.

"This is why we can't build somewhere defensible," Madara says. Izuna's sharingan comes alive to capture the moment.

"Who would want to see their child grow up as though they were in a siege?" Hashirama agrees, looking at his brother. Trying to make him understand. "The best defense a village - a future - can have, is people wanting it. The costs, the risks... if we make something beautiful enough, happy enough- if we can make something people want enough, brother, it'll last as long as people find it still worthy of love. Costs or no."

Tobirama stares at him for a long time. His jaw works, slowly, chewing an idea he finds indigestible. Eventually he capitulates. "...Fine. Stake this peace on Hyuuga and perimeter seals. Stake defending what you love on love. I'll do what I can to stop it from falling around your ears."

He vanishes in a flash. Melodramatic bastard, Madara thinks.

Hashirama looks where his brother stood, seeming to all the world a mournful sage. Ridiculous, the both of them. Madara slaps him upside the head.

"Idiot. Don't listen to him."

Unfortunately, instead of perking up with mock offense, Hashirama slumps in place. "Do you think he's right?" he asks. He never shows these doubts to anyone except Madara and, Madara assumes, his wife. It's overwhelming, sometimes, to be one of the sole bearers of Senju Hashirama's fears.

Madara considers the question. He can't dismiss Tobirama's perspective, no matter how much he despises the man. It'd be dishonest to say a simple yes or no, and his friend deserves an answer that is true.

"He's as right as there are people who think he's right," Madara decides, eventually. "And as wrong as there are people who think he's wrong."

Hashirama chuckles, mood lifting. "I suppose we should make something convincing, then. I've got some ideas, but I want to know what you think-"

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a discord conversation. There's kind of two related thematic elements. The first is that Konoha is one of the few hidden villages that isn't in a place that makes economic activity and trade really hard. This means it has major revenue streams that aren't ninja doing missions, and it has a large non-ninja population that both produces stuff and gives a source of new recruits. Sure, most of those recruits are going to be mediocre compared to ones with ninja parents, but Konoha having a huge genin corps to toss at stuff is a strength, and sometimes you get a real gem like Sakura or Minato. Being a resilient, diversified economy with a big recruiting base is why Konoha can suffer disaster after disaster, and fight war after war and still be the strongest village. Most of the other villages take one big disaster on the chin and get shoved to the bottom of the Big Five Village rankings until someone else gets blown up, while Konoha took the Kyuubi, the defection of multiple kage-level ninja, the loss of a major clan and still only had like, a five year period where *maybe* the only village that hadn't yet stepped on a rake could take it straight up.
> 
> This raises the obvious question - why are most ninja villages in the worst possible places to put a village, if Konoha being somewhere actually habitable and valuable is so obviously powerful? Well, Konoha has the Hyuuga clan, and barrier seals, and the Yamanaka and a bunch of things. If they didn't, a strike force of jonin could use the tree cover to get right up to the village, or hide in foot traffic and then bomb the academy and kill four generations of would-be-ninja. Most villages don't have that many ways to detect entry, so they need to rely on geographic ways to make it easier to spot and stop intruders. Kumo and Iwa use bare mountain ranges, Suna uses a desert, and Kiri uses the ocean. The first three can't really support a Konoha style economy. The last one can, and water access makes trade easy, so Kiri is really the biggest self-own of the series - lots of clans with unique skills, defensible location that lets you control access even without Konoha's sensor suite, still can be economically active through ships. Except a Mizukage (canonically mind-controlled, but Kiri's timeline makes no sense and it's thematically stronger if its self-inflicted) decided to push for more autocratic power and shattered the village. 
> 
> Which is where we get into the second thematic point - all of Danzo's goals mimic the *weakness* of other villages and sabotage Konoha's actual strengths. Bringing the clans to heel the way he did with the Uchiha means repeating Kiri's mistake. Pushing for victory on the battlefield and risking the core of future growth, in both the younger generation and the infrastructure to teach them, is what killed Iwa. Interacting with 'weaker' groups with coercion could leave it like Suna. Kumo hasn't made a mistake, but its isolation and strict control is a consequence of it knowing it can't afford to be otherwise, while Konoha can.
> 
> And, ultimately, it's diametrically opposed to the ideals of the founders of the only truly flourishing ninja village on the continent.


End file.
